


Half Way There

by kenjideath



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alpha Privilege, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Bathing/Washing, Communal Bathing, Group Homes, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pack Dynamics, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 20:55:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6923017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenjideath/pseuds/kenjideath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This shitty, new-age, make-shift pack halfway house may have been better than prison, but that didn't mean Dean had to like it.</p>
<p>In which pack dynamics are explored, a subculture is tentatively entered, and Dean Ambrose learns to love being an Omega.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Half Way There

**Author's Note:**

> I was thinking about how A/B/O stuff is based on these pack dynamics, but also tend toward nuclear family arrangements because that's what we're mostly all used to, culturally, and I wanted to try to imagine an American society in a world where humans needed packs in order to lead healthy, productive lives. I landed on this idea of a sort of halfway house or group home, where people who found themselves without packs for some reason or another could form groups and support each other. Then I threw a bunch of other idea about A/B/O at the story until it became something totally different. Spot five different deconstructed tropes and you get a very special no-prize!
> 
> Also why isn't there already a tag for communal bathing, I feel personally attacked by this oversight.

> _we've got to hold on to what we've got_   
>  _It doesn't make a difference if we make it or not_   
>  _We've got each other and that's a lot for love_   
>  _We'll give it a shot_

 

Dean would have preferred it if Paul Heyman were like all his other parole officers, happy enough to sneer at him and stamp his papers and throw him back in jail if it meant they could knock of fifteen minutes early. At least they had the decency to let Dean take care of himself. No one else had ever tried to place him in one of these halfway homes, a prison of another kind where they could hold you indefinitely, until Stockholm set in and you agreed to play like the other prisoners were your packmates.

Dean had been dropped off in front of a cookie-cutter suburban home, just shabby enough to not look fake, where he was met by a beautiful, scowling Alpha with bulging muscles and flowing Fabio locks. Dean hated him immediately.

That was another point in favor of jail. It was at least endo-segregated,

“I’m Roman,” the Alpha said, and extended his right hand toward Dean’s face, inviting Dean to accept the customary greeting. Instead of pressing his face into the Alpha’s broad palm so Roman could scent him by proxy, Dean slapped him a high-five.

“Name’s Dean, but I’m guessing you’ve already got the low-down on me,” he said. 

Roman pursed his lips, clearly offended by Dean’s rejection. Good.

“I’m gonna guess that you don’t want me to carry your bag, either,” Roman said.

Dean grinned as wide as he could, making his blunt Omega teeth look as threatening as possible. “Got it in one, big boy,” he said.

\---

The rest of the tour didn’t go much better. Roman showed him the Omega bedroom first so Dean could stuff the contents of his duffle bag into a locker and get a look at where he was going to sleep. “We mostly leave ‘em open,” Roman said, with clear disapproval, as Dean snapped the heavy lock shut on his with an indecent amount of glee. A few of the lockers were standing open and there was evidence of life scattered all over the room, but Dean didn’t give a fuck. _His_ underwear and toothbrush were going to be as safe as possible.

The room was pretty typical Omega bullshit. There were all these plants in the windows, which were huge to let in a lot of sun but also equipped with some super heavy-duty black-out curtains that must make the place a friggin’ cave during the night. The walls and even the lockers were painted in a shades of blue and red so pale they were almost white, and the floor was littered with piles of blankets, pillows, cushions, and bedrolls, like someone’s nest had gotten too fat and exploded. 

There were some scattered traces of personality, too – a pile of small barbells in the corner; a heap of discarded knitting; a poster of Degeneration-X, some shitty hardcore band from fifteen years ago, tacked up on one of the walls. None of it made Dean any more eager to meet his housemates.

There were three people in the room already, lounging in a pillow pile by one of the windows. One of them, a dark-haired Omega with severe glasses, was leaning against the wall to read in the natural light. The other two were curled up on either side of him, resting their heads on his knees, apparently napping. The blonde one even had his thumb in his mouth. Heyman had told Dean that people ended up in these places for all kinds of reasons; it made sense that being too dumb to live would be one of them.

“Adam Rose,” the Omega introduced himself. He tilted his head back imperiously, inviting Dean to kneel so they could press their cheeks together in greeting, without him having to disturb his napping companions by standing. Dean fisted his hands in the pockets of his jacket and waited. After a moment, Adam lowered his head. He didn’t acknowledge Dean’s rejection, though, just said, “Charmed, I’m sure.”

“Cool,” Dean said. Adam nodded and went back to his book. Dean was kind of impressed by his ability to back the fuck off when he wasn’t wanted. It was more than he could say for Roman, who was still hovering behind Dean, a tense, disapproving statue waiting to growl at Dean in every room in the house.

The door sprung open and another Omega poked his head in. He looked about Dean’s age, with dumb punk hair and way too much pep in his step. “Hey, I was just heading out to a Box,” he proclaimed. “Anyone wanna join? Roman, you up for it?”

“When I say ‘never again,’ I _mean_ ‘never again,’” Roman said. Dean didn’t know what this guy was going to do in a box, but clearly Roman was too good for it.

The punk just rolled his eyes. “What about you, Adam? New guy? Shit, Sami told us your name the other night – Drew? Dirk?”

“Dean,” Dean said. He was more than ready to get out of here. “I’m down.”

The punk beamed at him. He had a weird face, kind of harsh for an Omega. Huge nose. He didn't make any kind of formal overture, thank God, though Dean might not have rejected it out of hand if he had. 

“Sweet!” he said. “I’m Seth. C’mon, we can take Kevin’s car.” Seth swung away from the door, giving Dean a glorious 360 view of his plump ass, stuffed workout pants so skin-tight they were almost transparent. As he walked away, he called in a slightly different tone of voice, “You like to close the door?”

“Love to,” Dean said, and practically skipped forward to slam the door in Roman’s stupid handsome face.

\---

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Dean groaned when he and Seth dragged themselves back into the house an hour later. 

“You said that already,” Seth said. He didn’t seem nearly exhausted enough, considering that he’d gotten in more than twice the workout Dean had, continuing long after Dean collapsed on the floor and declared it to be his new home.

Seth was already yanking off his sweat soaked shirt. Omegas just couldn’t put on muscle the way that Alphas could, but that was no loss here; Seth was ripped to hell, miles of lean strength without any of the bulk to slow him down.

Seth led Dean to an unfamiliar door with a waist-high wooden box beside it. “Ugh,” Seth said, wrinkling his nose. He opened the box and tossed his shirt inside before leaning down to tug off his shoes.

Dean hesitated, but the sweat drying on his skin felt like ass and they were both Omegas so, fuck it. Pulling his gross clothes off felt _amazing_ , which at least distracted him from Seth peeling off his pants like he was unwrapping the world’s sexiest banana.

It was a pretty nice bathroom, compared to most Dean had been in. A large tub sunken in the floor dominated the room, with a smaller one, that could only fit three or four people, off to the side. All of them were currently empty. There were a few showerheads by the door for preliminary washing. Seth turned one on and ducked under it with obvious pleasure. “Fuuuuuuuck, that’s good,” he moaned, letting his eyes fall closed. “Grab whatever off the wall, if it‘s in a bottle, it’s for everybody.”

There was a rack of bath stuff by the door, shampoo and body wash and bubble bath and some kind of small, hard balls that Dean didn’t recognize. Dean hesitated by it, staring at the bottles without reading them.

Dean had never liked bathing, used to put off visiting the shower room in his building for weeks at a time. He hated the exposure of it, the way everyone felt entitled to ask questions about bruises and sunken ribs. At least now, with only a handful of people in this thrown-together pack, he could probably arrange to get his clean on after everyone else was done, most of the time.

He was already naked right now, though, so he grabbed some bottles at random and dropped them by Seth before claiming the showerhead next to him.

Dean let his head flop onto the wall, wriggling his toes in pleasure as the hot water beat down on him. “Shit, that’s good water pressure,” he sighed. He could feel his muscles relaxing as he stood there.

Seth laughed, an obnoxious sound, but not a cruel one. “Yeah, they’ll spring for anything if someone makes a case that it’s good for pack bonding,” he said. “Adam laid into his caseworker real good about the importance of grooming and boom! There you go, you know what I mean?”

Dean cracked his eyes open. Seth had started to soap himself up, vigorously lathering up his thick arms. Dean let his eyes curve over Seth’s body, the dusting of hair on his stomach and belly, his bountiful ass and the soft cock lying docile against his thigh – and stood up straight again, figuring he’d better actually wash himself.

“I’m not knocking it,” Dean said. He poked at the little pile of bottles, weighing his options. “I can put up with snobby pricks if they make themselves useful.” He picked up the bottle that Seth had used and squeezed some of the body wash into his palm. He was ready to flinch away from some kind of overpowering floral or fruity smell, like every time he had to use any kind of Omega whatever instead of the Alpha version. Instead it smelt like – nothing. Absolutely nothing. Dean frowned at his palm. He was half tempted to shove his face into his hand to get a better read on it, but Seth’s skin hadn’t started sloughing off or anything, so he just lathered up.

“Oh, yeah,” Seth said. He put one of his feet on the wall to scrub his leg. “I should give you the, uh, the political layout, I guess? The lowdown and junk.” Dean made himself pay extra close attention to cleaning between his toes while Seth switched legs.

“Adam’s not bad, he’s mostly trying to set a good example for Bo and Axel – those were the two guys sleeping on him before, they’re like his pups, you know what I mean?” Seth started picking through the bottles again.

Dean raised an eyebrow. “I’m no expert, but I’m prrrrretty sure those guys were our age,” he pointed out. “The blonde one looked even older. He could be twenty-five or thirty or something.”

Seth selected a bottle of shampoo and shrugged. “I don’t know, I’ve never really gotten personal with them,” he said. Seth poured the shampoo into his palm and started to work it into his hair. “Adam’s here as part of his rehab – heroin, mostly – and he’s courting with one of our Alphas, Heath, who’s here for his alcoholism.” Dean wrinkled his nose. He knew the type – former addicts that held themselves above everyone still using, like they weren’t one step away from being back there themselves.

Seth ducked under the showerhead and continued, “They set up this little family unit, the four of them, and it works for them even though it’s, yeah, it’s pretty weird.” Seth scrunched up his face, like he’d only just realized that it wasn't kosher for a couple to be playing house with people that were practically the same age as them. Then he shrugged it off and reached for the shampoo again. “Anyway, I don’t know what’s up with Axel, I don’t think anyone does, but running theory is that Bo is in Witness Protection.”

_That_ set off some alarm bells, but Seth kept talking before Dean could ask. “Heath and Adam aren’t far from being mated so they expect a certain amount of respect, but they’re both honestly really chill. Adam might ask you to help do the dishes or something but that’s it. Heath used to be in a band, and sometimes he still breaks out the guitar, but it’s not nearly as bad as you’re thinking, I promise.”

Dean was pretty much done showering now, and was just relaxing under the water, watching Seth run his mouth. He got the distinct feeling that he could go get a snack and come back to find Seth none the wiser. It was a little bit cute.

Seth continued, “The top of the heap is Kevin and Sami. They’re mated and they have a pup – he’s adorable and he’s our only kid so we’re all awful about it, he’s gonna grow up so spoiled.” Seth crouched down to dig through the pile of bottles. “They’re from Canada, they moved here for Sami’s job and were worried about raising their pup without a pack. Kevin’s great, he’s such an asshole, plus he’s – ” Seth made a vague hand gesture that Dean understood perfectly. “Just, the best body, I can hear my fifteen-year-old self cry whenever I see him. Can you go grab me a conditioner?”

Dean pushed himself away from the wall. “No problem, sweet cheeks,” he said.

Seth smiled at him much more brilliantly than was warranted. “Man, you’re so cool,” he said.

It took Seth about four seconds to realize what he’d said and blush all the way down to his chest. “I mean! You’re, uh.” Seth rubbed the back of his head. “All the other Omegas here are mated or courting or creepy fucks, so I might have. Gotten a little bit excited to meet you. Uh.”

Dean couldn’t stop his mouth from twitching into a smile. It was kinda cute that Seth could have so much enthusiasm for something as simple as having another Omega to hang out with. Despite himself, Dean was a little bit flattered. People weren’t usually happy to see him.

“Don’t sweat it,” Dean said. He leaned into Seth’s personal space to ruffle his already wet and tangled hair. “I’m a pretty big deal, I get it.”

Seth head butted his palm playfully. “Fuck off,” he said, laughing. He had an absolutely horrible laugh. Dean tore his eyes away and forced himself to walk back over to the shelf of bath stuff.

With his back to Seth, Dean was able to poke at what really mattered. “What about unmated Alphas?” he asked. He thought it sounded casual enough.

“You already met Roman, yeah?” Seth’s voice came from behind him. Dean selected a bottle labeled “REDKEN: MILD AND FREE.”

“It’s just him and the twins, Jey and Jimmy. They’re cousins, you know the Anoai’i Pack? Thanks, man,” Seth said as Dean handed him the bottle. Dean shrugged in response and leaned under the shower spray again. It was still magnificently hot, as if it hadn’t been running for minutes on end.

Seth started to lather up his hair. “They’re a super big deal around here, can trace their bloodline back forever – I don’t know much about it, but I guess there were too many Alphas jockeying for power and some of the younger generation peeled off to find their own way, so…”

Dean close his eyes and rolled his head on the wall, away from Seth. “So they thought they’d grace some lowlifes with their guidance?” he asked. “And then were shocked when the lowlifes didn’t need them?”

“Well…” Seth sounded like he was trying hard to be diplomatic. “Roman, at least, seems… he’s definitely disappointed that he’s not top dog, especially considering – you’ll understand when you meet Sami. But he’s not a _bad_ guy. He’s our age, you know? I don’t think he’s even courted anyone seriously yet. He’s still learning.”

“Mmm,” Dean said. If there was an Alpha that wasn’t a bad guy, Dean hadn’t met them yet.

Dean was almost nodding off, enjoying the ache of his muscles, when he felt someone touch his hair. He jerked away so fast that he slipped, landing hard on his ass with his heart pounding in his ears.

“Fuck!” Seth shouted. Dean was dimly aware of Seth crouching in front of him, but he was more preoccupied with the voice in his head telling him to _run run run_. “Shit,” Seth said. “I’m sorry, I should have asked – I thought we were – ”

“Shut up,” Dean said, his voice raspier than he would have liked. His fight or flight had calmed enough for him to notice the shampoo in his hair and on Seth’s hands. Of course an overly-sociable Omega like him would be into grooming. Dean should have expected it. “I just got surprised, is all.”

Seth looked genuinely distressed. “I really am sorry,” he said. “I should have realized–”

“I said it’s fine.” Dean shoved Seth away so he could get up, aware that his voice was too loud. He didn’t want to hear what Seth had assumed about him. “Go rinse yourself off, Handsy." 

The mood was heavy as they rinsed off and finally turned off the showers. Seth led Dean to what looked like a cheap wardrobe further back in the room. It turned out to be full of giant, fluffy towels that Dean got way too much enjoyment from wrapping himself in.

Now that the moment had passed, Dean was irritated with himself. No matter how much it sucked, Dean was going to be in this house for a while, and it wouldn’t be so terrible to be friendly with at least one person while he was here.

“What about you?” he asked abruptly.

Seth jumped a little and gave him a questioning look.

“What are you doing here?” Dean clarified.

“Oh!” Seth said. “I moved down here with my band. Florida has a much bigger metal scene than Iowa, you know what I mean?”

Dean could not have been less surprised that Seth was in a metal band. He grunted to show he was listening as he roughly toweled off his hair.

“We were called the Filth Parade,” Seth said, some of his enthusiasm returning. “Our sound was sick as hell and we got a few gigs, but.” Seth went still and tense for a moment, before seeming to shake the feeling off. “Corey – our lead singer – got a real nasty concussion in a mosh pit and had to move back home. And he was our Alpha, so that killed our whole little pack situation.” Seth finished drying himself off and tossed the towel over the drying rack set up next to the wardrobe.

“You had a metal band with only one Alpha in it?” Dean asked, following Seth’s example. Maybe he shouldn’t stereotype, but it wasn’t exactly an Omega-like genre.

Seth flicked a strand of damp hair behind his ear. “Nah, we had another one. Our bassist, Tyler. But he’s… I’ll give you a for instance: two hours after we decided to break the lease on our apartment, he was going home with an Omega. And two weeks later he was shacking up with another one.”

Dean snorted. Typical Alpha bullshit. Seth shrugged, which did interesting things to the muscles in his shoulders, and led the way out of the bathroom.

“We had one other Omega, CJ Parker, and he moved back home too, but I wasn’t ready to go back yet. Hey, Bo,” Seth said as they entered the Omega bedroom. The dark-haired Omega who had been sleeping on Adam earlier was kneeling in front of the potted plants set up by one of the large windows. He as holding one of those big spray bottles Dean had only ever seen on TV. Bo opened his mouth to say something, but Seth was already talking again. Dean gave Bo a “what can you do?” shrug, but Bo didn’t seem bothered by it. Dean imagined that you got used to this kind of thing if you lived with Seth.

“My Sire didn’t want me living out here all alone,” Seth said, tugging his locker open. Dean crocked down next to him and fiddled with the lock on his. “So he did some research online,” Seth continued, “and found this place. Sami talked to him on the phone and convinced him he was reliable, so… here I am.”

“Here you are,” Dean echoed. He stared at the meager possessions in his locker for a minute, dimly aware of Seth getting dressed next to him. Here he was, clean with a guaranteed dinner and a place to sleep tonight. Maybe this didn’t have to be so bad.

As long as the Alphas kept their distance, Dean could deal with it. For a while.


End file.
